


nobody here's perfect (but everyone's to blame)

by howtoalphagood



Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: ?????, Multi, Pack Fic, i try to write these deep things, lol i rlly dont succeed, poem format, sigh, ¿
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-30
Updated: 2012-09-30
Packaged: 2017-11-15 07:46:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/524874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/howtoalphagood/pseuds/howtoalphagood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>sometimes he thinks of his mom<br/>and sometimes he doesn't</p><p>but mostly, he does think<br/>about different things, though</p>
            </blockquote>





	nobody here's perfect (but everyone's to blame)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [iokangel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iokangel/gifts).



> title from andrew belle's song in my veins bc i felt like being rlly unnecessarily deep for this fic k
> 
> also, there's no caps in this fic... but there are commas????
> 
> if you wanna follow me on tumblr, im howtoalphagood there too :)

sometimes he thinks of his mom  
and sometimes he doesn't

but mostly, he does think  
about different things, though

he thinks of his best friend  
and hot, lazy summers  
where they could play lacrosse  
out in the downy grass  
or they could pretend  
that it was winter  
as they sit in the cool a/c  
playing video games

and he thinks of his best friend  
who got bitten  
and it's unfair  
it's so unfair that he wants to cry  
he wants him to be normal  
he wants him to be normal  
and be able to love the girl he loves,  
but without all the trouble

and, yeah, he thinks of that girl  
the one that loves his best friend  
and how her life must be miserable  
of how her overbearing parents  
are more like dictators  
or, they were  
until, suddenly, she was more like stiles

and sometimes he thinks of this guy  
tha he doesn't really  
like  
that he doesn't really  
dislike  
and thinks there's something there  
something that could spark  
and burn down his house  
and everything he cares about  
like it did to the guy he doesn't know  
(yes, he does)

he thinks about the boy who used to hurt him  
and hurl insults  
and how he angers maybe more than possible  
he doesn't know who he is  
he doesn't know what he is  
he wants approval and love  
but he can't and maybe it is his fault  
but maybe it's not

and maybe he thinks of the girl he might have  
loved  
and how she shouldn't have to deal with this  
any of it  
not him  
or his best friend  
or the boy who can't say 'i love you' to anyone but her  
how strong she is  
for being a nutjob  
and having everyone look at her  
like she deserves it  
she stands alone in the dark  
and stiles still wants to cry

while he's at it  
he thinks of the curly-haired boy  
who's all confidence now  
on the outside  
but sometimes he says something  
that lets the mask slip and  
slide off  
and he's still the same boy in the basement  
locked in a freezer without enough air  
as he gasps for it  
lungs working and working  
to continue breathing as he sobs,  
nails torn out and bloody against the  
prison's ceiling

stiles thinks he should be more observent  
but his constant state of being makes it hard  
and he shames himself for it  
for not noticing the pretty blonde  
who would seize and vomit as the classroom  
laughed  
for not noticing the way she looked at him  
or the way she was bitter and resilient  
but he thinks he's better at the game now  
and he can see past bright red lips and  
skin tight clothes  
straight to the insecure little girl  
who still panics about not being able  
to  
control  
herself

he thinks of the boy who didn't have any friends  
and who has a family now  
big and dysfunctional  
and would die for that petite girl  
who's panicking in the corner  
and he thinks he would do that  
for any one of them  
because really  
they're all each other  
in one way or another


End file.
